Light Me Down
by Mr. Hyde Returns
Summary: Harry and Draco are the heirs to two mob families that have been bitter enemies since Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin first imigrated to England from Italy. What happens when Draco is ordered to kidnap Harry and hold him as hostage? Slash, AU
1. Chapter 1

Yes, I shamelessly admit I'm one of those authors who start stories they never finish. But in my defense, my past stories suck like crazy. Feel free to read and review them but unless I get major incentive to keep doing them…someone just take this burden from me! *strikes epic 'suffering' pose*

But anyway…J.K. Rowling…all yours baby. (don't hurt me…don't hurt me no more…)

Uh…like specified, AU and might be a bit OOC, I'm trying to keep them as in character as possible in a dimension where the Wizarding world becomes something like Mafia Wars, Godfather, Silence of the Lambs, Scarface and Romeo and Juliet rolled all together. *mmm mmm mmm crunchy!*

Enjoy and review. Please. I'm not joking. Ooh and slash. Because I'm that incompetent.

Draco was bored. Listening to his father putter on and on about something or other that the rival family had done was killing him. His mother listened in rapt attention, devoted woman that she was and Pansy Parkinson's and Theodore Nott's parents were also nodding and agreeing like the sycophantic puppets they were. Sickening, all of it.

He fingered the knife he was carrying, under the table. What he wouldn't give to stab them…all of them and be done with it all but no, alas, he worked for them.

"Ah, Draco, would you care to repeat to us the mission I have briefed you on? You seemed…distracted?" Luscious…ahem…Lucius Malfoy's high and cold voice broke through Draco's stupor.

"I beg your pardon but my mind was elsewhere." He murmured deferentially, feeling a blush rise. Oh to be humiliated in front of those two despicable, gold-digging families. Of course though, they were too 'well-breed' to snicker out loud.

"Your mission was to capture Dumbledore's son, Harry and bring him here, as a hostage. After all, the best way to strike an enemy is through his heart." Hm…where had Draco heard that before? Oh yeah, everyday at dinner. The two families…again with the nodding bullshit.  
Personally, he didn't give a shit about this gang warfare. The bloody feud between the Gryffindor and Slytherin families was getting a tad ridiculous. Bodies were piling up in the streets of England with no apparent end in sight. For some reason, a new millennium was sparking a fever pitch of animosity. And all this, laughably, originated from one man, Salazar Slytherin. He had come to England hoping for a clean slate of sorts and to restart his…ahem…business in new waters. His family had been establishing it for at least 300 years now and Draco wanted to call it quits. Unfortunately, the last time someone had tried to call it quits had killed themselves over their lover and Draco wasn't quite ready to go Romeo. For crying out loud, he didn't have a Juliet, not that he wanted a girl. Or a boy for that matter. He had stopped caring a long time ago. Working for a man as cold and ruthless as his father had done the trick for him.

"You will go at daybreak tomorrow, 0300 military time. I would appreciate if you did not severely damage the boy…as I will be doing that." Oh, cue the oohs and aahs, Lucius Malfoy's going to throw the smack down. What else was going to happen? The sun will rise from the south? Draco snickered softly at the thought.

"Oh, and do not cause a scene Draco. You know what to do." Lucius fixed his son with a stern glare.

"Yeah sure, man…stealth and no ruckus and all that shit." Draco drawled easily.

"Insolence boy!" Lucius bolted up and pointed a trembling with rage finger at Draco. Narcissa gasped and tried to glare at Draco. The Parkinson's and Nott's were watching this example of familial discordance with a more than healthy interest. Leeches, getting off to cracks in this family, Draco thought bitterly and standing up, left the dining hall, leaving his father roaring in anger, his mother probably cowering and the other two families gloating.

He had enough of this show.

Harry could feel sweat dripping off his forehead and into his eyes but he couldn't wipe them away. Not now. Sirius was advancing, concentration wrinkling his brow and his arm tense as he circled around Harry. With a sudden cry, he leapt forward and swung at Harry's vulnerable midsection. Harry neatly dodged and rolled, attempting to bring a foot to trip Sirius and bring him to the ground. Sirius nimbly leapt over the foot and pouncing quickly, caught Harry in a full body lock before he could roll away. For a man as was unassumingly slim as Sirius, he sure was strong. Harry grunted and tried to get leverage with his knees. Sirius barked out a laugh and placed the wooden rod against his neck, pinning him in place. Harry tried for one last buck, only to feel the wood digging into his throat, cutting his breath short. He sighed and tapped the ground, rolling his eyes at the triumph in Sirius' eyes.

"Hey, don't look down kid! You're getting much better. Last week it was fifteen minutes and now you're at twenty five minutes holding up! Pretty soon, you'll be beating my old ass at this game." Sirius stood up, wiping sweat from his brow. Harry snorted. He was a long long way from beating Dumbledore's right hand man and master of weapons and defense.

"Did Remus say what we're doing in lessons today?" Harry asked. He looked forward to Remus' classes, honestly! They were fun and more often than not, hands on, but when that man wanted to lecture he talked like Professor Binns. That man was capable of leaving any one in stupor. If Dumbledore would only let him be used as a weapon, just standing outside the manor…wow. Attackers would drop like flies.

"No…but he was up all night planning something…" Sirius wriggled his eyebrows at Harry. Harry grinned. Well, now he was excited and dead curious.

"He didn't tell you anything?"

"No…you know how he is with this secret junk. Nothing's going to pry it out of him."

"Not even for you?" Harry switched on the puppy eyes.

"God, definitely not for me! And don't make those eyes, kid, save em' for Remus. He's the soft one." Sirius laughed again. "Well, come on, we're starting to stink and I'm sure Remus will throw me out of house and home if I come back like this for the nth time."

Harry nodded and walked off to the showers carefully. God, was he sore.

Sirius watched him leave, silently. He noted the way Harry handled himself, the way his body was shaping up and remembered the completely focused expression the boy had when fighting. He knew the boy was training harder than ever, especially with Slytherin turning up the pressure so much…everybody needed to be on their toes.

Sirius decided that that boy would be dangerous. Very dangerous in the near future if he would stop doubting himself so often. But for now, business called. Dumbledore wanted to talk strategy…like Sirius knew what strategy was.


	2. The Chokehold

A/N: This is sort of filler, to show how the hierarchy in the different gangs work and build up the tension for the next chapter, when things really get cracking. It might be boring but this chapter is pretty important to the set-up, okay? Thanks to everyone who reviewed, added me as favorite author/story/story alert.

Disclaimer: Does it look like I'm J.K. Rowling? *don't. just don't answer that*

Reviews too, would be helpful to know what I'm dong wrong or right.

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Draco was not an ass-crack of dawn sort of person. Anyone could testify to the monster that was born when Draco had not been acquainted with his hot tub, hair-gel, various styling products, body wash and a lethal amount of coffee. So why he was up at two o'clock with a gun and tranquilizer darts, face smeared with camouflage was anyone's guess. Except his father's. Draco snarled softly under his breath. Just because his father liked to think of him as one of Slytherin's most competent operatives didn't mean he had to be woken up this early.

For god's sake, Snape was more than good and he seemed to have harbored a strong dislike for Harry. Draco though, couldn't care less. He had only seen several pictures and glanced at the other boy's file to make sure he didn't accidentally take someone else as hostage. Draco wondered briefly what would happen if he took Sirius Black as hostage. That name, now, was infamous in the Slytherin clan. Everyone had heard of, seen, or was subjected to 'Dumbledore's dog'. He was a hand-to-hand combat specialist, a former M16 agent, a shrewd decision maker and an all around expert of firearms. Lucius was still scrambling around to find a man of a caliber like Sirius, pun intended. For now, it was some fat toad of a man whom Draco considered gifted if he knew the business end of a rifle from the butt end. Everyone knew the horror stories on what Sirius did and could do. But Draco didn't want to dwell on that now. No good jinxing the mission.

He carefully stepped into the van. Knowing Marcus, the stupid idiot would have tried to rig the thing up with so many explosives that a wrong step would bring the mission to a fiery end. Sometimes, he hated having an ex-explosives maker as a chauffeur and get-away driver.

"You know the place Marcus or do I have to tell you?"

"Numba fou', Pra-vet Dra-ave, Little Whingin', Surr-ay", Marcus intoned, deadpan.

"Must you be so plebian?" Draco sighed, outwardly appearing annoyed, but inwardly anticipating the game they always played.

"And you patrician?"

"My name is not Patricia."

And so the ride went on.

No one noticed a small blonde girl curled up underneath the elaborate shrubbery, wide eyes taking everything in.

Abra cada bra abra cada bra abra cada bra abra cada brada

_**The Day Before **_

Sirius blinked at Dumbledore. This was unreal. "So Slytherin wants to…what now?"

Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head. "They want to draw up a ceasefire agreement."

"Wait…you're telling me that they're taking the initiative for once?" Sirius' voice betrayed his disbelief.

"Yes. As this sounds awfully suspicious, we will not tempt the devil. I will appear to take it face value. You however…"

"I play the dog." Sirius finished for him, his eyes already ablaze with ideas.

"Be careful out there Sirius. You know there are few men like you out there. You're a son to me." The old man's eyes watched Sirius' reaction to this confession carefully. There was a measured calculation to him. Sirius didn't let that disturb him and bowed, muttering, "I'm honored you think of me that way." His voice and expression betrayed nothing, or at least nothing that Dumbledore was hoping to see. He steeped his fingers and sighed.

"Well, there is nothing else to say. Keep your eyes open." Sirius nodded and turned. He walked to the door, several files in hand when Dumbledore's voice broke through again.

"Oh! And Sirius, if you wouldn't mind…? I would like you to pick up some bags of lemon drops for me, please."

Sirius smiled. That's what he had been waiting for.

* * *

"Constant vigilance! We need to arm ourselves! CONSTANT VIGILANCE, LUPIN!!!" A near frothing at the mouth Moody was banging on the door to Remus' study. The door cracked open just barely enough for Moody to see a large hazel eye and the beginnings of a smirk. "You bellowed?"

"Open up, it's about the boy," Moody muttered gruffly. The door was quickly opened.

"Hey, Mad-Eye, what's up?" Harry greeted. He always got a kick out of seeing the paranoid and more often then not hilarious man.

"You, boy! Come with me! Lupin…just…" With a strangled noise, he waved off the soft-spoken man and gripping Harry by the ear, dragged him through the elaborate hallways of Hogwarts Manor. Harry, honestly, had no clue why it was called Hogwarts. Something that Dumbledore thought up, most definitely. It was a mark of respect and deference that no one even hinted at changing the name of the manor. Or maybe it was fear. Dumbledore was a frightening man when he wanted to be. Harry had seen what Dumbledore had done to those two Hufflepuff spies, Diggory and Abbot. He shuddered at the memory.

With one final, painful yank, Moody neatly deposited Harry in front of a door that he had only seen once before in his life. "Moody…?"

"Shut yer mouth, boy and knock!" Harry was all too willing to do so. Moody was having a cranky day.

"Enter." A prim, high voice came over the loudspeakers. The door buzzed and let out a brief, high screech for a minute before the door opened by itself. A quick and powerful blast of air followed after a full-body scan. After the security was done, the inner doors opened to make way for a very old-world style office with not much in personals. A thin, severe looking woman was sitting at the desk typing furiously. Her head did not raise to meet them, however a hand rose to wave at them.

"I'll jus' be leavin' the boy with you, ma'am." With a huff, Moody turned and exited. The air was still and silent after his departure. Harry cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Just have a seat, Mr. Potter. I will be with you in a while."

Harry nodded and took a seat. It was hard and cold. It allowed him to remember the last time and first time he had been here.

_Harry was three, his eyes still bright with wonder. His small hand clutched onto Dumbledore's pant leg. "Uh…where we going?" Harry had asked. Dumbledore turned to him with a smile and murmured, "We are going to see a truly marvelous cat." Marvelous she was. Harry had never seen so many papers on one desk before, stacks at least two feet high, and the woman's face was worried and pinched with severe glasses hanging on for dear life at the tip of her nose. Harry had wanted to jump and play on all the papers. A dim memory of him mother, a blur of red jumping on a pile of leaves surfaced. He giggled. The lady had stopped whatever she was doing to turn and look at the boy. "Did you just laugh?" She asked her tone of genuine puzzlement. Harry nodded. "Lighten up, Minerva! You are only young once!" Dumbledore boomed, his laugh joining with Harry's high pitched, infectious squeal. The lady-Minerva-shook her head and murmured something about 'being past her prime already'. _

_They were there to talk about Harry's future. All he remembered was loud bangs and screams and his mother shoving him in a cupboard and then more screaming and banging and then, silence. Heavy footsteps and the front door slamming. Then, silence again. _

_Then, Sirius had stepped from the shadows of the office and offered to take the child under his wing, with Remus tutoring him in whatever he needed to learn. Dumbledore was wary of giving the child to Sirius. "Your life is dangerous. How do you know the child will be safe with you?" Dumbledore intoned gravely._

"_How do you know he'll be safe with you?" Sirius quickly retorted. Minerva gasped. Dumbledore stood still for a moment, his eyes probing Sirius. Harry wondered why the room was now tense, waiting for something. Sirius' head was held high and his eyes were daring Dumbledore to do something. Harry liked those dark black eyes. _

_Dumbledore nodded._

Harry came back to the present, to find Minerva standing in front of him, impatiently holding a steaming cup of something. It smelled like tea. And nothing else. Sirius had taught him that. He gratefully took the cup and Minerva made a sigh of relief and strode to her desk.

"Mr. Potter, you don't know why you're here do you?"

Harry shook his head.

"Sirius has evidence to believe that the Slytherin family is planning to launch a strike against us. Against you, Harry."

"What!?"

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Snape's fist tightened in front of Lucius Malfoy. He barely could manage giving the man a stiff bow before launching straight into his rant. "How could you let a boy like Draco expose himself to danger like that? Do you know what men like Sirius Black and 'Diablo' Shacklebolt are capable of doing?! You're throwing that boy to the wolves when you had me here. I can bring you that Potter whelp without delay. Why your son? Why my charge? Are you trying to doom this-"

"That…is quite enough Severus. The boy is trained. You would do well to hold your tongue in front of me. You remember your roots, no?" Lucius leaned over, a predatory look on his face. One long, cold finger reached out to slowly prop Snape's trembling face up. He licked his lips slowly, the finger moving down his throat, feeling the soft flesh below it. Snape sucked in a shaky breath.

"Yes…my pet. Hold your tongue. You may be as good bodyguard, but there are many bodyguards. I actually have half a mind to…" Lucius purposefully let his voice trail off, his eyes still watching Severus. Abruptly, the unsettling look left Lucius' face and he sat back down, a rather pleased smile on his face.

"Leave. Wait for Draco and don't challenge me again."

"Yes, sir."

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To say Harry was annoyed was probably an understatement. He was raging mad that Slytherin would dare to break the treaty that they themselves were formalizing. He was tossing and turning, incapable of sleep. At least, for tonight. He gritted his teeth, remembering McGonagall's voice. _"Harry, keep up this naiveté and you'll find yourself dead. You should know that Slytherin would sooner sell their mother's out than risk their necks."_

God, how he hated those low-lying, double crossing bastards. And god, how he wanted to go outside. If just for a few minutes, to his special place. Harry scoffed the moment he thought those words. Special place, save me, I'm turning into Ginny. He sighed, annoyed. He still hadn't found a way to break off with her and with her Irish thug of a family. Only Ron was bearable, but the rest were a bloodthirsty and wiolent pack. He didn't want break it off if with Ginny meant a few weeks in ICU and saline drip Kool-aids a la Weasley. He knew how vindictive Ginny herself could be; he'd helped her slash and total Michael Corner's car, then place death threats in the windows of their house. But god was that girl irritating. She and her family thought they hit it rich with Harry. Well, sucks for those no-good gold diggers. Harry didn't care anymore. And Sirius was backing him up all the way.

And then, the fiasco with Slytherin. His thoughts returned to it. He needed to think in his place again. Making up his mind, he placed the semi under his jacket and swung out the window. Sirius would kill him but hey, the grounds were secure. Mad-Eye's own men were all out there patrolling the parameters. The only thing he needed to worry about was disturbing the guards and he had more than enough practice to avoid them.

Crawling on all fours, he reached the small, barren grove with the ground cleared away after Sirius had been practicing explosives with him. He could think here.

Back in the house, his bedside clocked glowed 2:53 AM.

Draco rechecked his gun. It wouldn't do for it to jam.


	3. It's Like That, Bird

Rambo first contact!!! And our boys meet.

Disclaimer: Don't own Otherwise Harry Potter would be a lot different. So would Draco actually. I hope J.K. Rowling is happy…not giving poor little us copyright over her Harry. Sniff…sniff…

Review please and Happy New Year to all! Sorry, forgot to say it yesterday.

Enjoy.

* * *

Draco crept through the thick foliage, cursing whoever decided that the rainforest look would be good in England. The brush was overgrown and filled with dry crackling leave that made a noise no matter how stealthily Draco moved. He was glad that he had left Marcus on patrol duty outside the van. The dinosaur would have the whole compound on their feet within seconds.

It was good to do things solo. No chance of anything fucking up.

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Peter looked up at a hooting noise came from the underbrush. Very good owl impersonation. "You came solo?" He whispered, urgently.

"Yes." The voice was low and cold. It screamed business. Peter shuddered at what the boy could grow into with a voice like that. Wordlessly, the boy got down and dog crawled him way under the fence with Peter nervously watching the surroundings. For one guard to just look at what he was doing…well. He wouldn't hesitate to shoot the boy and come up with some story. Lucius would have not hold on him if he stayed at the Hogwarts compound.

He wished the boy would crawl faster. He seemed to be crawling sooo… fuckinggg… slowww…

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"Hey, if you're up there, I just want you to know…" Draco sucked in his breath. A voice…a teenaged boy's voice. With the slightest Russian accent on it, something he hadn't been able to lose even 16 years after moving from Russia.

Bingo, Harry's ass was officially his. And for god's sake, was that retard actually praying? God didn't exist for people like them.

What he couldn't figure out was why Harry was sitting in the middle of the forest at the ass-crack of dawn praying. Was this some ritual that he normally did? If it was, why was it overlooked? How had no insider picked up on this!

Draco felt a growl threatening. God, how he wanted to just march over there and pick the boy up and throw him back in his bedroom and tell him to make his mission fucking harder! He did not wake up at one preparing just so Potter could hand himself over on a silver platter…it was just too damn easy. So easy Draco's hackles rose in anticipation of some set-up. Waiting for a massive pair of hands to come from nowhere and snap his neck like one would snap an infant's.

He licked his lips and swung the gun to his shoulder, taking careful aim at the boy's exposed jugular. God, the moon was bright tonight. Harry's form was illuminated around the edges.

Draco took his preparatory breath and squeezed the trigger softly. With the barest of whispers, the dart left the gun and whizzed towards Harry, embedding itself into his neck. Harry let out a strangled…noise and fell over with a soft thump. Everything was quiet tonight. There weren't any animals, Draco noticed.

Draco crept over, a knife held in his hands as he turned Harry's still form over, his body tensed up. He didn't want to take a chance if the other teenage had been faking it. Roughly pulling the dart out, Draco shoved it into the ground, leaving it as a sign that Harry hadn't decided to go AWOL. He heaved Harry onto his shoulder and getting down, started the long crawl back to the fence and then, to the car and homebase.

* * *

Marcus checked his watch. 3:30 AM in blinking red. Draco should be just a few minutes now. 3:35 AM. He felt the key in the ignition, ready to turn it and drive the hell out of there the minute Draco came back. Being this close to the enemy gave him the creeps…creeps and memories he'd rather not deal with.

_A shadowy figure brandishing the gun…"Kill him now or I kill you"…that heavily accented voice showing his Korean background…detonate…Mara with her fucking face gone and her hands still twitching because…please don't leave her alive, not like this…all that blood…Germanius Flint and those heavy rings crusted with blood and gore…"Life is hard, kid. Just ride it out."…Oliver and his goddamn smarts and wisdom and that he had to go off and…_

"_Life is hard…"_

Rapping. Soft knocking at the window brought Marcus face to glass with an irate looking Draco who seemed to be buckling under the weight of the teenager on his shoulders. He unlocked the doors and keyed the car. Now was time to drive like hell.

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Harry felt like someone had sealed every hole in him shut and then punched him so that no blood came out of him and he was a giant bruise waiting to burst. He could just remember meditating in his clearing before…blankness. He stifled a groan and cracked an eye open just barely to gather his surroundings.

It was a jail cell. Bare steel and austere without so much as a window. Okay, he could deal with that. Hogwarts' prison cells were so much worse. Now, if he could only turn his head to see what was beh-

"I know you're awake so you can drop the squint act." Harry schooled his facial features into something neutral and blank before turning to meet his captor. He instantly narrowed his act. It seemed that he was worthy enough to be visited by the Draco Malfoy, heir apparent for the Slytherin family. Harry quickly started making notes of his appearance and sizing him up. Tall, platinum blonde with ivory like skin; typical Malfoy traits. Slender but muscular body that he would like to face in a fight and a face that was pretty. In a rather feminine way. Harry stifled a snicker. Draco in drag would be something he could make the fucker do when he got out of this prison. There was pure snake in his eyes, Harry swore.

Draco caught Harry eying him and smirked, remarking pompously, "Well, my father will be around pretty soon so make yourself at home." He snickered at his joke. Harry growled angrily.

"Fuck you, snake."

Draco merely laughed and walked away. Harry could hear a very heavy door slam shut. He sighed. And to think he had dismissed McGonagall's threats as something sensationalized…well now he knew better, too late. But for his credit, he hadn't heard the boy, which truly disturbed him. Usually, he was very good at detecting people although at that time, he conceded, he was a little distracted.

He was sure Sirius would rip them all from head to toe. So would Kingsley and maybe even Remus if he could get past that pacifist soapbox of him. Honestly, that was one of the most annoying things about the male. It was one of those things that made Harry question why someone as violence-addicted as Sirius would find in him. Harry hated cliques, but it seemed that the old clique of 'opposites attract' was alive and well. Dumbledore…he didn't know how the man would react. He was so unpredictable and although at times kindly, there were times Harry knew, just knew the man didn't care about him or anyone. He didn't know how he would respond to this. Probably gather Lucius and Don Riddle and give them lemon drops. Fucking pansy, Harry though with no small measure of bitterness. It wasn't that he man treated Harry poorly…not at all. Harry grew up throwing away clothes after he wore them once, both figuratively and sometimes literally too. No, he was only a 'father figure' to Harry when it suited him to be a father figure. Other than that, to Dumbledore, he was just a tool.

The door banged open again and Harry nearly jumped. Key word being nearly.

Well, thought Harry darkly, in comes the devil. Lucius Malfoy was dressed exceedingly well today, not that Harry would know how he dressed everyday, but custom Hugo Boss suits didn't come on discount racks and neither would that Vacheron Constantin watch. He wondered who he was meeting.

Facially, his appearance was very much like Draco's. It was all too obvious that they were related. Lucius had cold eyes that swept over Harry's prone form, still clothed Harry noticed much to his relief, and his long spider-web like hair was pulled back. And he thought Draco was girly.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy surveyed the boy in front of him. His eyes lappe dup every detail, from the powerful, strong frame to the messy black hair. Not a mark on him save for a small puncture on his neck. Draco had done his job well.

Lucius' eyes rested on Harry's green ones. There was a defiant set to his eyes that spelled trouble. And yet…is it not the defiant ones that are always the most fun to break?

Lucius smiled, slow and lazy. This would be so much fun; his fingers were just itching to touch that tanned flawless skin.

"Welcome to your new place, Potter."

"Asshole, go fuck yourself."

Oh yeah…lots of fun.

* * *

Review please, once again. Man, I'm on a roll with this thing. One updwate per day, man.


	4. Funded by ShowTIME

Another chapter that is a 'Patented Plot Speeder-Upper: Guaranteed to Speed-up Plot or Your Money Back' thing. Hope you enjoy and keep on reviewing!

I live off reviews! That along with chocolate, Nutella and bubble tea.

In case you haven't figure, there will be bashing of some characters (not out-right, mindless bashing though) and other characters will be a bit different. Let's just say I bring out their darker sides that J.K. Rowling doesn't fully explore.

Disclaimer: Still don't own. Santa hasn't given me my wish. *sniff* *sniff* And he doesn't even have the decency to mail me back! Angst, angst and more angst.

* * *

"No, no, you don't get it! Fat women are sexy because they are fat! They had this…this…abundance of…flesh!" Blaise's hands moved in wild circles, attempting to bring his point home to the blonde. Draco merely groaned at that imagery.

"Why would they be sexy when their asses are hanging out of their pants? Like that one…right there!" Draco pointed at a large woman who strode by them, seemingly unaware of his wild pointing and sneer.

"Now she's got me fucking hard, man." Blaise licked his lips. Draco made a noise of disgust and murmured, "If we weren't in public, I'd kill you for being such a disgusting…" He searched for the right word. "…testa di cazzo," he finally spat out.

Blaise merely grinned and drawled, "I'd much rather screw her than that skeleton of yours."

"Daphne isn't mine…hell I don't want her. She's a good fuck is all. You'd think so too, bones or not." Draco scoffed. There were other girls out there who all wanted him, yes. However, Daphne's family held the monopoly on this city's prostitution rings. Lucius wanted that control and the only way was through marriage. Threats hadn't worked on a family backed by the Black household, one of the largest names in the Slytherin clan, besides the Malfoy. So pretty much, Draco was engaged to Daphne before he was even born. Talk about fate.

But, what he really hated was that everytime he envisioned Daphne's overly long face and drooping, 'beaten dog' eyes, he thought of Harry's face. He couldn't fathom why as he had just met the boy. Something about seeing him in real life, the defiance in his eyes or maybe the smooth lines of his face, tanned from working no doubt. Draco could never tan. The last time he'd set foot on a beach, he had come back looking redder than a lobster and peeling badly to boot. He was smaller than Draco. Not in the muscle sense but height-wise. His eyes…Draco wondered if it was his natural eye color. The data sheet said so, but it lied. It had listed Sirius Black as his father and Renee Longbottom as his mother. He'd have to look into that.

"Helloooo…anyone in there?" Draco grabbed Blaise's wrist before the tall boy could rap Draco's head. He felt a small satisfaction as something cracked and his friend wheezed in pain. Sometimes, he really hated Blaise.

"Fuck you! What the hell?" Blaise grasped onto his wrist, his mouth curled up in a snarl.

"Don't even try to hit me next time or I'll break it."

"As opposed to what?" Blaise shot back venomously. Draco sighed. Honestly, he hadn't broken it, just sprained it. People these days, couldn't tell the difference between a sprain and a break and couldn't be bothered to thank you when you explained it.

"So, heard that you all have a new prisoner?" The abrupt change of topic threw Draco slightly. News travels fast.

"Yeah…someone important. Father-"

"Ooh, Sirius Black? Kingsley Shacklebolt? No wait! Mc-" Draco growled in annoyance at Blaise's loud interruption. If there was one thing he hated…

"None of them, you idiot! Father is planning something really big with the Don, he won't even tell Walpurga." Blaise snickered softly at the name. Draco couldn't help but give a small smile too. The Black's had a penchant for odd names. Sirius was probably the most normal of them all. And he was severed from the family after that night so he didn't count.

"Soo, no gossip then?"

"No gossip. And I have to go see Daphne now, for the 'bonding session' bullshit." Draco scowled angrily.

"Have fun with horseface!"

Have fun with Harry's face.

* * *

"Sirius…you've let me down. And just yesterday I told you that I trusted you." Dumbledore let out a disappointed click of his tongue. Sirius' head was hung so low that he might have merged into the ground if given one more inch. He said nothing, only a barely controlled tightening of the hands was all.

Dumbledore moved on.

"And Alastor. I would have expected much better of you. You say you questioned your parameter guards and none of them…?"

"No sir." Moody whispered, his voice dripping with shame and barely contained anger at the Malfoys. Scanning the dart they found was almost unnecessary. The color of the dart and the make screamed Slytherin as did the residual powder they found on it. Sedatives, and the fast acting kind too.

"Question them again. Sirius, close off borders and don't let anyone in or out. This information can not be leaked out. Don't fail me on this one too, Sirius." Sirius winced softly at that dig. Moody gave him a slightly sympathetic look born out of mutual commiseration.

"Am I clear now?"

"Yes sir!" Both men barked together.

"Very good, you are dismissed." Both men walked out of the office as fast as possible. Dumbledore sighed again, something he was doing more and more often now. He knew both men cared deeply for the boy. Nothing he said to them could make them feel guiltier and worse than what they had already inflicted on themselves. Lupin cared for the boy and so McGonagall in her own, detached sort of way. He couldn't blame them. The boy had a natural charm and charisma, just like his father. Yacov had been a good man so it was sad when both Yacov and Lilya were found dead in their home from gunshot wounds and little Harry went missing. He was a good spy, he had been better than Sirius. Sirius had asked to take Jame's place and avenge him as soon as he heard of the death. At that time, he was still in M16 and being groomed for taking the lead of the Black family, over his brother Regulus. That had been nasty, but not as nasty as what Sirius could do if he learned…

Dumbledore smiled bitterly.

His fingers found the personal speaker on his phone and pressing the button labeled 'cat', he spoke into it, "Minerva, come up here for a second, please."

* * *

Minerva stood nervously before Dumbledore. There was something deceptively calm about him in the way his eyes twinkled and his hands steeped. He hadn't offered her a lemon drop either.

"Did Lucius or Riddle send you anything?"

"No." She answered shortly.

"Well, then, we shall make the first contact, hm?" Dumbledore's eyes probed her's, something much like a smile peeling at the corners of his mouth. She felt vaguely sick. She had been fond of the Potemkins; she had liked Yacov. Not Lilya though; she was always a bit too naïve and optimistic for her taste, like a kid. Yacov must have liked that about her.

"I will contact Riddle first."

"No, contact Lucius first. The dart was Malfoy make, expressly. Sirius and Kingsley have confirmed it as so. Also, you know how to do this call?" Minerva bristled to herself at this jab. No doubt, he had been doing it to everyone.

"Yes I do."

"Very well…you are dismissed."

"Yes sir."

She left quickly. She could feel Dumbledore's eyes on her though, watching, always watching.

* * *

Lucius picked up the phone and rang the number. He waited patiently for the voice to come on.

"This is Alliance Central? May I help you?" Clear, chirpy voice. Young, 27 at the most. The voice had the slightest of accents on it, Czech. The Gryffindors always seemed to favor Eastern Europeans for some reason…

"Yes, and this is Lucius Malfoy. May I speak to you head please?"

"I beg your pardon?" Lucius grunted, annoyed. New secretaries could never understand shit. He couldn't understand what had happened to the old secretary.

"Lucius Malfoy." He strained.

"Ah…well…" There was the sound of flipping and a long pause where flipping was all that he heard.

"Tell McGonagall that Don Lucius is on the phone." He ground out, irritated.

"A-a-ah, y-yes sir." Atta girl, a direct order, spoken like you mean it always worked on people. If only it would work on that goddamn Potter boy.

"Lucius, I was just about to contact you." Tightly controlled, thin voice of an older woman who meant business.

"Minerva, well I am here to discuss with you. Talk away."

"Is this a hostage situation?"

"Ah, good question. Always to the point. No and I will tell you why. Potter is ours because as of fifteen minutes again, the peace treaty was discarded by Don Riddle. Right now, Potter is not a hostage as he is a prisoner. A bargaining chip if you will. Do what we don't' want you to do and Potter will be hurt." He let aslow smile creep across his face.

"What if we don't concede to whatever asinine demands you have?" That voice was harsh and cold. That was not McGonagall's voice. It was Dumbledore's. Well goody gum drops he had both heads on the phone.

"Then Harry will pay for your pride." Dramatically worded if he did say so himself.

"What would you take for his release?" Dumbledore asks after a long pause. Is that defeat I hear in his voice? That means victory for me!

"Nothing, as I have told Minerva, this is not a hostage situation. You don't have a treaty now either since Don Riddle rescinded it."

"This is war, Malfoy." McGonagall was back again; spewing out the dramatics like him. War huh? Well, he never said that to them but if she wants to do it…who was to deny her?

"Well, what we already have going is pretty much war. If you want to take that ceremonious step, then by all means, I won't stop you. Harry will just be a prisoner of war, no?" Lucius definitely wanted to watch their expressions as they tried to process all this. No doubt, pretty soon he would be meeting up with Sirius and Kingsley and maybe even Flitwick. He couldn't wait for them to meet his men. They had been getting so much better since last they truly met face to face. Draco was training very well too.

"It was nice having this conversation. I hope to see you all soon!" He spoke to the silence on the other side of the line. He was, one could say, giddy. He liked blood.

* * *

Dumbledore and McGonagall stared at each other in silence for a bit. Both were too shocked to form words. Sure, Dumbledore had been expecting something but he hadn't thought Lucius had war on his mind.

"Well, Lucius got what he wanted and we'll just have to beat him back again."

He looked at Minerva who gave a weak, hollow smile in return. Dumbledore nodded at that.

"Get Sirius. It looks like he'll get his revenge after all. Lupin, Moody, Shacklebolt, Tonks and Arthur here too. We need to get moving as fast as possible."

Minerva looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "Sir…Aberforth?"

"Never mind that fool. He'll get it soon. And call Ollivander's too. We need more weapons."

Minerva felt something press against her chest. It was stress and it was something much like 'doom and gloom'. She had a bad feeling about this war. It had been a long time since they last openly engaged Slytherin and who knows how strong Slytherin had been getting. Though the body count was about equal on both sides in more of an eye-for-an-eye motive that had gone slaughterhouse…it was a testament to Slytherin that they were confident enough to call off a peace treaty which Minerva was sure was them buckling under the pressure of a near war. She was rarely wrong but when she was wrong, apparently, she was very wrong.

"Do we still have the yakuza's support?"

* * *

Draco looked at his merrily ringing cell phone, vibrating on the counter-top. Giving a dark look at the man gagged and bound at his feet, he used a latex-gloved hand to flip the phone open and bring it to his ear.

"What do you want?"

"Tsk. Tsk. Is that anyway to talk to your father?" Lucius' voice was giddy and excited, though, not annoyed or angry as it should be. Draco's eyes furrowed. This wasn't good.

"I'm currently ready to interrogate the man you asked me to so I'd appreciate it if you could just tell me what the fuck?"

"Language, Draco? What would your mother say?" Digging in that sore place again.

"How the fuck would I know? What happened." It wasn't a question as much as it was a statement, a demand. He knew he would probably get punished for taking on such a blatantly antagonistic tone towards someone who was his boss but he couldn't car less. His prisoner whined softly at his feet, probably thinking the call was on how to better torture retarded Irish people. Draco scowled silently and gave the man a harsh kick in the side to silence him.

"Pack your guns son because we are at war."

"What?" Draco was sure he was hearing things. At war with who? Lucius Malfoy did not declare war…he let other people do it for him.

"McGonagall declared war on us for taking her precious Harry." Green eyes flashed in front of Draco. "Expect to be called on mission pretty soon. As soon as you get what you need from that man."

Of course, Lucius hadn't declared war. He'd conned McGonagall into doing so.

Turning, he pointed the gun at the whimpering figure and roughly pulled the gag from his mouth.

"So talk." Draco raised an eyebrow and stared coolly into wide blue eyes.

"You kidnapped Harry?! How could you do…declare war!?" Draco sighed. Give these Irish fuckers an inch, they'll take a continent.

"Well, it doesn't matter to you. Just answer my questions."

"No! I don't know what the fuck my da does! Do you think he'd tell me? Me siblings don't tell me nothing either." Double negatives.

"You're the youngest, aren't you?" Draco knew he has a sister but since he was in a mood, he just going to jab at him. He's really tall, though. Taller than Draco, which is no small feat given that Draco himself was 1.905 meters exactly.

"No, I have a younger sister." Sure enough, there is a resentful, slightly sulky tone to his voice. That boy was so fucking transparent that Draco wanted to laugh.

"You sure you don't know anything?" Draco smoothly cocked his gun. He knew his father hadn't wanted the boy killed, but the Weasley didn't have to know that detail.

"No!" Draco sighed. Time to bring out the big guns. He'd have to thank Dolohov for this information later on.

"You sure Hermione would appreciate being dragged up in the middle of the night? She seems a nice girl, if there isn't a mean bone in her body, unlike you."

Ron paled and his freckles stood out all the more. Pathetic. He was going to crack, Draco knew. His fists had tightened and he was fighting with betraying someone in his family or having his girlfriend…subject to whatever Draco could think of. His lips tightened, holding something back no doubt. Draco had to speed this up. "Ins fact, I do believe I know where she lives. She's down at that-"

"No! Wait…" Bingo. "My da said something about meetin me half-sister's cousin at Ottery St. Catch-pole Devon." The boy had a half sister?

"Really now? Who is your half-sister's cousin?" He really hated the Weasley's thick Irish accent; he could barely understand it.

"Gabrielle Delacour. My half sister is Fleur Delacour." French? He would have never guessed that one.

"Is that all?" Draco asked. It was useful information, if he did know what to do with it. This rendered the information useless then, as he knew.

Weasley apparently didn't trust himself to speak as he nodded and gulped, his protruding Adam 's apple bobbing up and down. Draco's finger itched but he put the gun down and abruptly left the room, making sure to slam it shut as he left.

He needed to talk to his father about the war bullshit. This was something that wasn't gong to end well.

* * *

A/N: Draco is 6ft. 3 in. Ron is 6 ft. 41/3 in.

Draco is 19 and Harry is 19. Ron is also 19 and you can pretty much guess everyone else's age. The Italian curse work Draco yelled at Blaise in the beginning is 'dickhead'. It is not a nice word, children. The Malfoy family is Italian in my story though their name is kind of French sounding isn't it? Whoops.

Not much Harry in it and I apologize but the next chapter will be all about Harry. It will further advance Malfoy's relationship with Harry now that he's thinking about Harry.

w00t! First story going over 3 chapters. Yes!


	5. You've Been Warned

"Draco my son, let me tell you something. I may be in a good mood but by no means will I allow you to challenge me like this. You will guard Harry and watch him. This is my first real task to you and if you fail me…" Draco winced at what that would entail. His father nodded in satisfaction as the points hit home.

"Yes father." Draco kept his gaze downwards, as submissive as possible.

"Very good. Leave." Draco turned around and left, his head still swimming a bit. His father had manipulated McGonagall into declaring war officially on them so there was a greater blame percentage on the Gryffindor if this news got to the police. Hopefully, Draco thought, the war wouldn't expand onto civilian turf. Police usually turned a blind eye to gang workings since each family had a hold on the law enforcement. The police were bribed so much that they might as well just give up and call themselves privatized.

Draco shoved open the heavy doors and strode outside, sparing only a cursory glance at Snape, his bodyguard. The deathly pale, grim-faced man jogged a bit to catch up to Draco's fast walking. Other than the sound of breathing, it was a kind of quiet companionship between the two. Draco finally broke it.

"I can't believe that fucking…" His voice trailed off, making a gesture with his hands seemed the only way to really describe his father.

"Look at it this way, he is at your mercy is he not?" Snape's eyes looked at him solemnly, large black pools. It unnerved Draco.

"No, dad says I can't harm him at all. He does all that shit."

"Hm." Snape's face turned thoughtful.

"So, you asked him about the war?"

"Yeah." Draco scoffed at that. The only response his father had given him was 'it was necessary'. Fuck necessary, his father wanted political power like the Gryffindors.

"And how do you feel?"

"It's fucking stupid! We had a stranglehold on the drugs and slave trade. Why do we need political power? We have enough to keep us from prosecution. No one wants to touch us because they all have some connection with us; so why war with the Gryffindors?" Draco's voice was bitter-sounding. Of course he wouldn't like war, Severus reasoned to himself. Still…

"You have not grown like your father. He is power-hungry and will stop at nothing to control everything."

"Is that good?" Draco's voice was curious.

"Maybe. We will see." Snape hated to be so confusing and enigmatic but the truth was, we feared for the boy sometimes. He was worried on how the boy would handle the family once Lucius was gone. He had a good grasp of how to command and act powerful…but to be as ambitiously greedy as Lucius; to reach out and take power was something Snape thought Draco would balk from doing.

No, not balk, the boy was plain incapable of doing so.

* * *

Harry's eyes itched and he reached up to scratch them, only to realize that the wristcuffs held his writs in place. Damn, he thought, way to go back to prehistoric prisons. Although, Gryffindors probably held the record for the worst. He had been there and…some prisons still held human remains, forgotten and ancient. Harry shuddered. At least the Slytherin's was modern. He wondered what was happening, nobody had been down at the prison area and he felt like going stir-crazy over the quiet loneliness of it all. He needed to talk with people. It was how he was.

He cursed at his own stupidity, that he could get himself captured like that. If only he'd stayed in the bed like he was supposed to…how would it have been different? Maybe home-court advantage? May be the Slytherins wouldn't have the guts to go to compound, though he reasoned to himself if whoever had tagged him had the guts to go so deep into Gryffindor territory as to be right next to the compound, ten more meters wouldn't have been a killer. But at least he'd be able to fight better. Maybe he could have thrown him from a window or called Sirius. Harry growled, his head swirling with so many what ifs that it hurt.

The door slammed and footsteps reverberated across the floor. Harry instantly tensed, getting ready for a confrontation. He slowed his breathing down, focusing on it.

"Get the fuck out." Oh if voices could scowl. Harry's head whipped around to see the thunderous face of Draco Malfoy and the impassive face of his bodyguard, Severus. Severus' face held a sort of calm disdain to it that riled Harry up instantly.

"What do you mean? In case it slipped your notice…handcuffs and bars? Oh wait, that's kinky." Harry grinned at Draco in a flirtatious manner. His eyes, however, liked Dumbledore's, were calculating and boring into Draco's to see his expression. Draco didn't disappoint. There was a spark of something in his eyes, Harry wouldn't call it annoyance or a kind of prudish anger. He didn't know what to put it under.

"Keep your sick fantasies to yourself, Potter." Snape's thin, slightly peevish voice responded instead of Draco's voice.

"I didn't ask you, windbag." Harry snarled, instantly irritated at this man. He didn't know why he hated him so much as the man had only spoken a sentence to him; the first sentence he had ever spoken to Harry. He put it up on his appearance. Chalk-white with a thin face like melting wax and a slightly stooped figure Severus looked more the evil antagonist in a Disney movie than a real man.

"Careful with your words. I distinctly remembered you being behind bars here." Malfoy sneered at Harry.

"Not if you look at it from my view-point." Harry grinned up at them, seeing Severus' fists tightening in some barely controlled need to strangle Harry. Thankfully, there were bars between them. Draco merely looked amused. Harry gritted his teeth; he didn't want to see Draco amused, he wanted to see the fucker riled up and as angry as his whole family had made Harry!

"Well considering you are now a P.O.W, you should pay attention, ne?"

"P.O.W…Fuck you all!" Harry's violent yell could have shaken the walls. Draco winced at the sheer volume and anger pent-up in that voice. That kid seriously needed anger-therapy sessions.

"That's not too nice now since I'm gong to be the one to watch over you. See…my father wants me to take you around and guard you will still leading you around the house. basically, you're like a servant-ish to us because my dad likes to use people for all they're worth." Draco scowled. He hated his father, making him do a shit job like this.

"That's really fucking smart of him. What happens if I bolt?" Harry's voice, though teasing, held the beginnings of a threat to it. Son of a bitch…

"Son of a bitch…I'll flay you alive after my father does," Draco snapped angrily.

"You mean you'll beat my ass after your father beats both out asses in?" Harry retorted glibly, his eyes shining with something. Draco suppressed a growl. He felt for Snape now, really. The other man looked like he would tear Harry's throat out with his bare teeth if he could.

"You know what…Severus…just do it."

"Of course." Severus looked all too happy as he produced a thin metal canister and shook the contents inside. Harry's eyes widened as Snape leaned over to spray the contents in Harry's general direction. Draco wisely backed-off holding his breath to prevent inhaling the fumes. Harry slumped silently. Holding in his breath, Snape quickly unlocked the door and manacles, placed small handcuffs on Harry and picking the boy us, began to fireman carry him to the door. Draco followed behind closely. Both men didn't dare to breathe until they were out on the other side of the door.

* * *

Harry, once again, found himself waking up chained and sore though the location was considerably different. One hand was handcuffed to a thick, oak post that on closer inspection was the fourth leg of a truly magnificent bed. Which made this room a bedroom, Harry's stupid side provided. The bedroom was an outstanding example of Classical Italian architecture. It was filled with vaults, flourishes, marble pillars and an impossibly high ceiling that held a replica of Michelangelo's _The Creation of Adam_. Whoever had this bedroom had money and good, if rather grandiose and overblown, tastes. Harry's bedroom, for all his wealth, was a simple affair. Dark blue themed with a small bed that was more apt as a cot.

"Like it? It was my father's. I hate flashy things." Draco's voice, once again, interrupted his thoughts.

"Would have never guessed." Harry snorted.

"Well I do. This is what my father wanted by guarding you."

"Wow, smooth Malfoy. Handcuffing me to a bed post after knocking me out? What next? Black fuck-me boots and a whip? I'll bet you have those."

"I'll pistol whip you is what's next if you don't shut up." Draco was in no mood to deal with this shit. He had to go see Daphne again and had only come to see Harry because he needed clothes from his wardrobe, a monstrosity of overwrought wood and cherubs and other such stupid shit.

"You couldn't. You've got limp wrists…like a gay guy," Harry taunted, his eyes sparkling. God, Draco did not just think Harry fucking Potter's eyes were sparkling.

"I'm not a fag and I will do it."

"Bring it, bitch." That proved to be the last straw and snarling, he drew out his Beretta and brought it hard on Harry's temple. The boy grunted but executed a quick flinch that was designed to roll the force so the crack didn't knock him out. It still wounded him though and Draco could see a thin line of blood snaking down his face. However, seeing that blood calmed Draco down. He wasn't supposed to harm Harry but…he'd make something up. The stupid idiot fell on the stairs or something.

"Don't make me do that again." Draco muttered. He didn't want to keep making excuses if Harry continued his insult-a-thon.

"Make me." Oh my god this was going to be one long-ass war.

Draco didn't bother replying and grabbing a random set of clothes, decided to change in the bathroom. If somebody didn't knock before entering…well it was their grave.

* * *

Harry smirked to himself at a job well done. Draco had left the room positively seething with his oh-so-delicate complexion rumpled by a furious blush. Harry would endure ten pistol-whippings to get Draco worked up like that again.

That had taken his mind, only temporarily off the war. So…he had heard Sirius and Mad-Eye talk about it when they though he wasn't listening. It had been everyone's concern until Slytherin pushed a new 'cease-fire' agreement only two days ago. That had thrown everyone off until now. He didn't know why Lucius would bother doing that although for the record, it was probably McGonagall who declared war. When the woman was riled up, which was very rare, she made bad decisions.

But then again, he wasn't a hostage. He was P.O.W. who was sitting on very expensive rugs in the bedroom of the Malfoy family heir. There was something too surreal about all this.

His head hurt again, side effects he always got after being sedated, but it looked like he'd have a long time to figure things out.

* * *

Review!

A/N: School's starting tomorrow so updates will come slower. Sorry!


	6. Funkytown

Sorry so long! I have a lot of school shit to deal with and a writing/art competition sooo…here. It's kind of short but I'll follow it up.

~!#^()*^##^%#%!$#!~#%^$^$**)^*)((&%E!#~$%$*(#*&^#$TGT#$#^

The moment Draco entered his room, he knew that something was wrong. Harry…well, Harry was asleep for now, thank the gods. But something was off about his room. He could feel it. His gaze fell on a small blue vase on the nightstand. He had bought that vase when he was fifteen for his mother. It had cost a year's allowance, the best that Italy's underground market could possibly provide. She hadn't wanted it, whore that she was Draco thought bitterly. And now, the vase was _wrong_. He stepped over and pulling out a small ruler, laid it against the wood and measured out ten centimeters to the right. That vase was so wrongly _off_ and now, he thought he could also smell the new maid's sickly flower perfume on the vase. He was now, legitimately irritated.

See, Draco didn't get angry if he could help it, he got irritated. Reaching over, he buzzed his personal maid, Darla, and was met with an overly cheery voice saying, "Draco! How was your day…I cleaned your room for you. The prisoner was asleep so I did-"

"Darla…the vase was off."

"Excuse me sir?" Draco felt intense annoyance bubble inside him. Goddamn his father and constantly switching the maids!

"The blue vase on the night-stand…?" Draco ground out.

"Oh! The pretty one! I just picked it up to admire it bec-"

"The vase was ten centimeters to the left." Draco could almost taste her confusion.

"I'm sorry sir…I-"

"Darla, next time, do not touch anything in my room, yes?"

"But sir, to cle-" Draco was on a roll with the whole interruption thing.

"Do not touch fucking anything or your _hands_ will be decorating the room." Draco then disconnected and collapsed back onto his bed. Today turned out to be one of his 'less good' days. Learning his family had declared war, dragging Harry out of his cell, putting up with Harry's taunts, being haunted by Harry's eyes every time he looked at Daphne's horse-like face, dwelling on Harry's words when he should be listening to Daphne and now, reducing Daphne to tears with some cold insults and comments and now returning home to find his room in disarray and Harry sleeping on his floor. Rather like a dog now that he thought about it. He snickered softly. Harry stirred, shifting in his sleep so that his shirt rode up. Draco wondered who had taught the kid to sleep because it seemed a miracle to him that the kid could sleep so soundly even after all this. Drugs…Draco's cynical and often paranoid brain supplied.

Wait no…stop thinking about Harry!

Harry proceeded to moan loudly. Draco gulped as the sound went straight to his groin. Or maybe the place in his brain that regulated thoughts to his groin.

His day, officially, became hell.

* * *

Harry was having a good dream. _His mother was there and she was laughing and pushing him on the swing. His father was there too, for once, chuckling at their antics. Harry's hair was now so much like his father's, a wildly tangled nest. His mother often insisted that new species could be found in it and laughed that Harry would inherit his father's hair. His mother's hair was a smooth red. But it was a more beautiful red than her blood. Her blood was an ugly red that was fast drying to brown._ _He had his mother's eyes. Beautiful, bright green that many people had admired over. _

'_Faster! Go higher!' Lily egged her husband on as he took the turn of pushing Harry. Suddenly, his father grabbed Harry and in one smooth swing, took Harry off the swing and hugging him, tackled Lily to the ground. All lay on the ground for a moment in silence. And then, something else came that was not what Harry had expected at all. A tall, faceless man materialized and began shooting. Instantly, his father turned around to shield Harry and his mother but as blood began pooling around them, it was obvious that his father's move hadn't worked His mother jerked once, not even having time to scream before she was dead and Harry was left silent, too rattled to even think about screaming. It was like the cupboard again. Make no sound and maybe-_

Harry was jerked awake when a boot landed in his side. He rolled over, or tried to when one wrist was chained to the bed. Giving Draco an irritated look, he turned around, observing the wall. Snatches of the dream still were floating in his head bringing back memories that he'd much rather forget. He was straining to identify the shadowy figure. He though he knew it but-

"You do know that it is rude to turn your back to someone on purpose. Especially if that someone is me." With that, Draco forcefully grabbed Harry's shoulder back and gripped his chin. Draco saw something flash in Harry's eyes-pain?-before a neutral expression took hold.

"Get your fucking hands off me…do I look like a poof to you?" Draco suppressed a shiver. After all his irritations and listening to Daphne drone about her dying goldfish, Harry's defiant face and sparkling green eyes and low voice was like a breath of fresh air. He continued to stare into Harry's eyes. Harry, on the other hand, was fast becoming creeped out by this behavior.

"What…_are_ you a faggot? Stop bloody looking at me!" Harry backed this up by swiftly head-butting Draco. With their very close proximity, the blast was powerful. Draco cursed and held his nose, falling back. Harry smirked. The taste of sweet, sweet victory. Draco gave Harry one last undecipherable look before running off to the bathrooms.

That ought to teach the fucker not to get close to Harry Yacov Potemkin anymore!

* * *

Draco thought that for once in his miserable life, he felt something akin to love when Harry headbutted him.

* * *

"You gonna tell us anything or do we have to play mean again?" Sirius menacingly cracked his knuckles in front of a whimpering Wormtail. Honestly, he had no idea what Alastor had put the men through but it was obvious to him the moment he had interviewed the guards that something was suspicious about Wormtail. He was nervous, twitchy and overly concerned with Harry. Classic signs. But it seemed Wormtail really didn't know anything. Either that or he grew a backbone. That only engraged his further that such a low-life motherfucker would take Harry away from him!

Without thinking, he lashed Wormtail across the face, feeling a heavy ring scrape the man's cheek and the impact against his cheekbones. Wormtail let out a pitiful wail.

"Oh god! Please, I don't know anything!"

"Liar…how much did they pay you, huh?" Sirius hissed. He kept reminding himself, after the information was taken…after the information was taken…after…after…after…

"Five hundred grand! Oh god, please stop! Stop! Sto-" The man was cut off as Sirius brought the barrel of his gun straight into his already abused cheekbone. With a groan, he sank back unconscious. That blow didn't give Sirius quite the satisfaction he was looking for though. He wanted to rent this man from limb to limb, tell him about everything he went through to raise Harry. How hard he had tried, how hard he had worked and most importantly, how much Harry meant to him that he would gladly trade himself for the boy if the Slytherins had but given the word.

Instead, they had taken him and left Sirius to deal with the wreckage left. It wasn't fair.

* * *

Remus took a good look at Sirius. He had lost some weight. His cheekbones were standing out dramatically…or maybe it was just lighting. It was rather dim in here after all. However, the bags under his eyes couldn't be hidden, along with the sort of hollowness a parent feels from losing a child.

He had never seen his Sirius so…devastated looking. Somehow Sirius had managed to heft all blame for the kidnapping onto his own shoulders through, no doubt, some asinine logic path of his.

Remus was sick of it. No, not sick of it. Sad of it. He wanted so horribly, badly to relieve Sirius of it. Tell him it wasn't his fault but everyone's fault. In this mood though, Sirius was more like a brick wall. He couldn't be reasoned with; a shell who's one goal now was to bring Harry back no matter the cost. That was how they had gotten together after all, a mutual love for Yacov's son. And when needed, Remus would be fighting with Sirius.

* * *

XD Yeah…Draco has some issues. But we still love him because of it. And some SiriusXremus angst and their back-story, etc. I'll be working on all aspects and on all people.

Hope I can get another chapter in this month but probably not. I can dream though.


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